Embers of Love
by Misty Lassie
Summary: Perhaps, the reason was to see him lose the match, to have him feel what she felt when he left her. The fire of her affection – whether love or nuisance – would be doused by that. Hopefully. RyoSaku. #1


**Disclaimer**: I do not own POT. I own the story.

* * *

**Embers of Love**

_by: Misty Lassie_

_Though his words are those I cannot fathom,_

_They creep into my veins, and impale my heart_

_Still, I know that his mouth where they come from_

_Will never meet mine causing my feelings to thwart._

She let herself be overwhelmed by these ethereal words, and tears fell. Beyond the world she illegally entered, she heard screaming. Shouting of the name she had or used to admire. Ryoma.

The girl opened her eyes to go back to the reality she had escaped from. She never really wanted to be in it because of the uncertainty of whether she really belonged there or not. The reality where she remained crestfallen and invisible had been a heavy blizzard that prevented her from leaving her home, her heart; from opening it again; and from allowing someone to enter. Because that someone might never consider it as a home and would only ruin it.

While leaning against a Sakura tree, she tilted her head up, and reflexively covered her eyes from the blazing sun overhead. It was noon, and the match had already started. Well, she didn't care, but the chance of seeing the "cool prince" was very tempting that her feet, which flouted her orders, hoisted her up and took manage in weaving her way to the tennis court where the horde of crowd had already turned quiet.

_What happened? Have they realized the real character of that seemingly cool guy? I hope so, but that seems impossible._

The dejected girl stopped, reluctant to keep on and let his eyes meet her gaze. She pondered observing him from a long distance, but decided to be part of the audience and be as inconspicuous as possible. She mustered her strength and continued her tracks, hoping to procure the satisfaction she wanted. Perhaps, that really was the reason - to see him lose the match, to have him feel what she felt when he left her. The fire of her affection whether love or nuisance would be doused by that, and she would surely owe the opponent, whoever he is.

She reached the base of the stairs and clambered to get to the highest possible tier of seats. She saw him, sweating out of weariness, focusing his eyes on the ball to be served by the opponent. She wondered if he ever did that to her, to never take his attention to her away. She let the thought fly out of her mind.

"Five games all," the announcer said.

She gingerly occupied a free seat, while enigmatic feelings triggered a grimace on her face. Seeing his moves, his techniques while playing, befuddled her. Why was she even captured? Whenever he used another strategy and changed the position of his racket to indicate the seriousness of the game, her brows furrowed. _Those were the eyes and hands that ensnared me, she thought. _Sweat trickled down the miffed girl's face because of the stifling heat and the intensity of the game.

"Ryoma has improved a lot, don't you think?" uttered a voice from her side, "Ne, Sakuno?"

She turned and saw her best friend, Tomoka. The latter girl with short matted red hair had infuriated Sakuno too much that she had to stifle a scream. At least, she had somehow released the surreal thoughts she was lugging.

She, irked by the fact that Ryoma had been returning the balls deftly, couldn't deny it. _Of course, that guy would never allow a blot on his reputation._ She didn't answer.

"Sakuno?" said by her concerned best friend.

Sakuno remained silent and didn't budge. She was completely paralyzed by the dire situation: He won.

"Game and match, Ryoma Echizen," a voice proclaimed.

The court, teeming with crowd that was alive again, was filled with shouting and screaming again of the name she totally loathed. Tears started to form under her eyes, while Ryoma was being congratulated by his team. In the end, she was still the loser. The wimpy one who was easily corralled, who was easily hurt. She closed her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. In a quirk, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into his eyes.

_Was that worry? Of course, not. He just won, right?_

She couldn't help it. After a slight pirouette, she ran and ran, while the nostalgia kept on affecting her. She couldn't accept her stance in the situation, much less the fact that nothing would suffice her wish of stopping her perpetual feelings for him. Nothing.

* * *

He saw her. She was on the verge of crying; he knew that. With those puffy eyes of her, he thought that she was perhaps reading a novel or a poem again. Again. _How pathetic, he thought._

"Ochibi, you haven't changed at all!" shouted the flabbergasted Eiji who let his right arm rest over Ryoma's shoulder.

"Is that a compliment or what?" Ryoma, glowering at him, retorted.

Everyone on the team laughed.

Cognizant of the success of Ryoma in the tournament out of country and the match that had just occurred, the Seigaku team held a celebration in the restaurant of one of its members, Takashi Kawamura, who was constantly shouting, "Come on, baby!"

Though the party was done haphazardly, the place was bedecked with decorations and banners congratulating Ryoma, and the platters of food were giving off delicious aromas supposedly giving a good atmosphere. The team wouldn't stop laughing so Ryoma, who was already annoyed by the noise, decided to leave the place for a while. He was trying to stealthily walk towards the exit, but he was prevented by Inui, holding a glass full of a bubbling concoction of green gunk and purple slime. Ryoma wore a wry expression and gulped.

"You might want to try this first?" taunted Inui, with a flash of light from his pair of eyeglasses.

Ryoma, defiant of what was happening around him, felt queasy. He sent him a peremptory look. He didn't know why but there was an irrational feeling inside him. He started being antsy when he encountered her eyes, and this thought made him more uneasy. He missed her - this he couldn't deny.

The others had stopped the mirth, finally, and turned their attention to the two guys glaring at each other. "Hey! Come here, Inui," said Eiji imperturbably. Fortunately, Inui remained, at the least, calm, and let himself be moved by Eiji.

"This is nonsense," Ryoma jeered. He forged ahead toward the door and didn't turn to look behind again.

He went out and walked down the street back to the court. The weather was drizzly. Light rain was pouring down, and he felt _that_ atmosphere again.

* * *

Ryoma had been practicing for his upcoming match the next week when it started to rain. He went immediately to their equipment room, got an umbrella from one of the boxes in the corner, and left. He was traversing the green yard lush with different plants when he saw ahead of him the back of a girl.

He had observed that the girl couldn't get out of under the awning near the Seishun Academy, for the sky was turning to dark gray and the drizzle lately resulted to a storm brewing. The girl who had wispy brown hair, braided on both sides, was not carrying any umbrella, only a book.

_Is an umbrella that unwieldy? Ryoma thought._

Ryoma wasn' t supposed to be bringing any umbrella, too, but the academy had issued one for each member of the tennis team, so as to not allow anyone to get sick. Ryoma stopped for a moment wondering if he should just ignore the girl and go the other direction away from her, but the girl, sensing someone was staring at him, turned to look. For the first time, his feline eyes and her hazel ones got connected.

She blinked, turned away her gaze from the boy with perfectly cool spiky dark green hair, and meekly stepped aside to her left, allowing Ryoma to pass through the other. She was perfectly mortified. They were the only ones left in the school now. She could feel the strong aura of the guy whom she had a crush on ever since, and she felt the urge to twitch and squirm, but she prevented those for she wanted to feel the novelty of not being too flamboyant. Somehow, she felt a sliver of pride getting into her for being so reserved.

Ryoma had not gotten past her, and she contemplated why. Was she that disgusting that he couldn't get near her? Was he giving berth to her? She suddenly felt self-conscious, though only awhile.

Ryoma stood beside her. Voices hushed. He opened the once furled umbrella and held it with his left hand. "Why are you still here?"

"I was…ah…reading a book, and then it started to…rain," Sakuno stuttered.

"Let's go," Ryoma muttered without looking into her eyes again.

"Huh?" asked Sakuno incredulously.

Ryoma offered his umbrella. Sakuno was still sceptical about what he was doing. She had a vague idea, and she didn't want to believe at that moment that he finally noticed her.

In a moment, they were both quietly threading their way. Halfway from her house, the rain stopped. He folded the umbrella again, and without any notice, he made his way back toward his house. By then, she realized that the small fire of crush burning for him was stoked by that unprecedented moment and was turned into a fire of love.

It was the first time he entered her heart fully.

* * *

Sakuno trudged back to the tree where she had come from earlier. She was still running, gasping for breath. Her feet were tired but she told her it was a form of chastisement for bringing her to that court, for making her reminisce the pain. She finally stopped at the crest of the elevated land where the tree stood still. She almost couldn't breathe. She knew she had to relax so she let herself sprawl on the ground.

She saw the leaves of the Sakura tree falling to the ground, while the rain plummeted from the sky to the same destination. She knew that the leaves had already given up their position in the tree and had chosen to loosen their grasp and fall. On the other hand, the rain, which would eventually be seeped into the ground, would return to where it came from, as the cycle continued. She mused if she was a leaf or a drop of rain. Will he let her reinstate to his heart? Had she really acquired a position in his heart, in the first place, but had only relinquished it? Whatever it was, she didn't know if it would be beyond the realm of possibility.

She got the book out of her pocket and began to flick through the pages. She wanted to at least calm herself with the words from another poem.

_When he gives those lovely words of him_

_She almost has fallen off the brim_

Her hair bangs suddenly blocked a part of her view, disturbing her from perusing. _I should have worn my hairclip, she thought._ And that was when she remembered that moment.

* * *

She was walking down the path near the fence of the tennis court. She could hear the pounding of balls on the wall, and the screeching of his shoes in every move, but she never tried to look until…

A ball was hurled over the fence, passed an inch away from her face, and bounced off the ground. She stopped in her track. She tensely turned her head to face the tennis court, and there she directly saw, for the second time, the intense feline eyes. Beads of sweat were all over his face. His racket was being held using his left hand. He was panting heavily, and she was hearing the deafening thumping of her heart.

He paved his way to the fence, to her, and handed over a hairclip designed with a meticulously carved small flower. "Got that somewhere. I thought it might not be that useless," said Ryoma with that casual tone of his.

She was too stunned to respond immediately, but in a matter of seconds, she tried to get the hairclip from him. She mistakenly touched Ryoma's finger, and her heart beat faster and louder than ever. Still, she managed to do what she needed to.

She was probably blushing by then. _I hope not, she thought._

Ryoma turned around and proceeded with his practice with the wall as his opponent.

That was it another moment of uncertainty.

Before the day ended, they met again when she was treading. Standing by the vending machine, he was drinking a can of Ponta. She observed every gulp he made and every drop of sweat that streaked down his face. Yet, she put her gaze on the ground when he noticed her.

_Wait. What should I do?_ Sakuno felt nervous, but unusually blissful. She faced him, trudged toward him, and smiled. It was all sudden, never planned. "Ah…for the hairclip…thank you."

She walked past him, but Ryoma held her arm that forced her to stop. Sakuno stopped, addled.

"I don't have an umbrella, but you can go with me," he said coldly and released her hand.

The world seemed to stop, but it had to continue for them. Ryoma offered a can of Ponta, and they allowed their feet to stroll the street together.

"It looks good on you. Always wear it," he uttered with no hint of affection.

Sakuno looked perplexed and seemed to turned her head back and forth, from side to side. Her mind couldn't rationalize. _The what?_

Ryoma smirked and turned the other direction. He was gone again in a blink of an eye.

_Is it the hairclip? she asked herself, and her hands made their way to it on her head._

* * *

She decided to shut the book and dismissed her thoughts. But the inevitable happened. Ryoma was there, in front of her. She stood and confidently confronted him, at first.

"You look stressed, and with the bangs-"

"Yes," interjected the anguished girl. She smiled, a fake one obviously.

Ryoma momentarily crinkled his brows, then he showed off his calm, cool face again. Still, he had the fierce eyes worn that indicated the seriousness of the matter. Tears were starting to surface under her eyes, but she tried to blink them back. She walked away. It wasn't a sign of cowardice—maybe a sign of contempt. _It shouldn't be a sign of affection, not anymore, she decided. I know I should be happy for him, but why am I feeling this way?_

A tennis ball made its trajectory in front of Sakuno again and rolled down the steep land. _That would never work again._ She halted out of surprise but continued to walk. She was half expecting he would at least touch her, stop her the way he did the day they met by the vending machine, but he didn't. The emotional suffering continued, and her revulsion at him strengthened.

_Maybe, that was why. He didn't care. That was why he didn't even bother to say goodbye._

He saw her leaving. He let her for he knew how aggrieved she was, and this hurt him. His hand which was longing for her touch was not able to reach her...like the way it did that day.

_Can't we keep the fire burning?_

**~END~**

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**Author's note**: I hope you enjoyed the story. I beg your pardon if there were grammatical errors or OOC (like what some people call it) incidents. As you might have observed, I didn't use any profane language. I don't practice it.

I am planning to add another chapter, but...

Well, just leave reviews so you can help me decide.

Thank you! :D


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